


and then there were buns

by inkyubus, Silver_Snow_77



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bakery, Fluff, Jason is a Dork, JayTim Week 2020, M/M, NO CAPES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyubus/pseuds/inkyubus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Snow_77/pseuds/Silver_Snow_77
Summary: Jason wants his new bakery to attract college students and late nighters--he's definitely succeeded when a cute forensic science student walks in.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 12
Kudos: 213
Collections: JayTimWeek





	and then there were buns

“Dude.”

“Mhm.”

“ _Dude_.”

Jason looked up from painstakingly evening the edges of his book folded puff pastry right into the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. These eyes were only superlative in that they were so close to him, belonging to a scrawny looking kid leaning right over the counter into Jason’s face.

“Can I help you?” Jason asked with just an edge of _remember you’re in Gotham_ in his voice. “Don’t lean over the case, please.”

“Sorry, sorry, I just had to tell you,” The kid jumped back from where he was dangling over the glass and interrupted himself by taking another bite of the blueberry-almond croissant samples Jason had put out earlier. “These are amazing. My stamina has been refilled. We’re talking extra beyond-the-bar recharge here.” The rest of the croissant disappeared in two seconds. There were little crumbs all around his mouth, which quickly disappeared with a swipe of his tongue. 

Jason wrenched his eyes away “…Thank you?” He’d only been open a few days and so far no one had bothered to say more than an order and a goodbye. Ah, Gotham. 

“Thank _you_ for being the only place open near campus for three blocks around that isn’t a liquor store.” Croissant-enthusiast had a backpack slung over one shoulder and a huge hardcover book tucked into an elbow. His hair looked like he’d been trying to sweep it back but had succumbed to gravity and splayed over his eyes. A Gotham U student, then. Exactly the kind of customer he’d been hoping to get with a late-hours bakery.

He said as much to the guy. “There are lots of folks working the late shift who need a pick-me-up before getting on the train, which is an ordeal in itself, you know? Or might need something for dinner.” He tilts his chin at the freshly baked quiches and handpies in the display case.

Croissant-guy hummed, bending over to peer at the little chalkboard signs taped to the front window of the display case. Jason had tried to remember the three cursive lessons he’d gotten from the Gotham public school system while labeling the trays. His scrawled handwriting must have looked ok because the guy cooed and tapped a nail on the glass. “Ooh, ham and asparagus. That sounds great. My roommates and I haven’t eaten anything with nutritional value since midterms started.”

“I can wrap one up for you if you want,” Jason said in his nice customer-service ready voice. And then, out of nowhere: “On the house.” 

Jason remembered those days, only a few years ago, when Donna had convinced him to give college a try. He’d left one and a half years through, begged a job off a legendary baker in Jersey City, and came back to Gotham ready to create his own shop and become just as famous. 

Clearly, he should have taken a business class or two. 

The kid popped back up from behind the glass, waving his arms frantically. “Nah, don’t do that, it’s ok. I’ll buy two.”

He stuck out a hand expectantly. “I’m Tim, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Jason.” Tim’s lips quirked a little when Jason’s hand lingered on the handshake. It ended in an awkward fumble when Tim tried to pull away but Jason pumped up and down one more time, shaking Tim’s retreating fingers. A blush bloomed high on his cheeks when Tim gave a little chuckle.

Jason tried to cover, grabbing two napkins and a wax paper bag emblazoned with _And Then There Were Buns_ in blocky blue font. “Ok, so two handpies--”

“No, two quiches, please.”

“Two slices of quiche--”

“No, the whole quiche. Whole quiches.” Tim flashed a grin and twisted around to dig his wallet out of a pocket. “Is it quiches if it’s French?”

The bags were replaced with two flat boxes as Jason gave Tim a dubious lookover. In skinny jeans and sans jacket in the sweltering August heat, it was very apparent that Tim was no bulked up powerhouse. He had knobbly wrists and little chicken legs and looked like he ate like one too. “You and two friends are going to eat two entire quiches? There’s a lot of butter and eggs in those.” 

“Should you be telling people how much butter there is in it if you’re trying to sell?” Tim tipped his head to the side with a little smile, letting his hair wave free and his eyes spark. Slamming a hand on the register, Jason tried to remember how much a whole quiche was before Tim determined he was completely incompetent at running his own bakery. 

The cash drawer sprang open and smacked Jason in the gut from his sudden fumble. He swore, shoved it back in, rang Tim up and then slammed it open again while Tim stood there with his little knowing expression, eyes flicking from the register to Jason. Finally, it rang up properly. Jason held out the bagged quiches. “That’ll be 25.60, please.” 

“Keep the change,” Tim said, still smiling at Jason as he handed over three bills. “I’m gonna get another sample.”

“Ok,” Jason replied weakly, and tried not to stare at the way Tim’s shirt rode up as he put away his wallet. 

🥧

The entirety of the next few days were spent hoping Tim would stop back in for another evening visit. But he didn’t and Jason was busy with a large wedding that Sunday and the football game Saturday morning that was driving droves of customers in through _And Then There Were Buns’_ front door. 

The bell above the door jingled madly all morning as Gotham U fans left the train station a block away and headed towards the stadium, from where Jason could faintly hear the announcers if he concentrated. There was no time to do that between the rush of people trying to get a cheap snack for tailgating or the weekend shoppers stopping in for coffee and pastries. Not for the first time, Jason thanked the guiding natural universal force that got him such a good spot with suspiciously low rent so close to the GU campus. He’d gambled on strange hours getting him customers most bakeries missed and it was working out so far. Late nights on the weekdays meant he got nine-to-fivers leaving for home, the evening shift heading to Dixon Docks, and any bedraggled college student looking for free wifi and endless coffee. More regular hours on weekends attracted everyone out for games, brunchers, and anyone who had picked up an unfortunate weekend shift. 

Thank god Kory was running the register for him. She was no-nonsense when it came to customer service and shut down any extraneous espresso drink additions or ridiculous special orders as quickly as she passed tickets down to Jason. The extra hours he spent on Fridays getting dough and fillings ready came in handy on these kinds of mornings. There were two kinds of croissants (including Tim’s new favorite), two kinds of the massive fluffy quiches he’d baked early that morning, three different breakfast sandwiches, and hundreds of the tiny scones he’d perfected. Jason was most proud of those--two were perfect to accompany a 12 ounce coffee and while simply flavored with vanilla and orange, they were easily his best sellers. Even better, Biz, the bakery’s third employee, could mix up the batter himself and shape each one in ten seconds flat. The man had magic super speed hands and Jason was grateful every time he emptied another basket of scones. 

It was late into the afternoon when the surrounding streets finally cleared out and Jason could slump over the huge marble table he’d splurged on to take a breath. Kory was deftly counting out piles of bills and Biz was setting out dozens of ring molds and lining up piping bags for the wedding entremets. 

“Game days,” Biz grumbled. “Football isn’t even interesting. We’re an hour behind.”

“You know what is interesting,” Kory started, thumping a thick stack of bills on the counter and wrapping a rubber band around it. “The way you keep looking hopefully at the door every time it opens, Jay. Are you expecting someone?”

“If you think it’s surprising that we’re getting customers, babe, you might not want to work here much longer.” Jason forced himself up when Biz waved an impatient hand at him and accepted the piping bag of mint infused mousse handed to him. He waited a few seconds for Biz to start placing tiny rounds of bitter chocolate cake into the molds, then topped them with a flick of his wrist and shook the mold to even out the mousse. Only 249 more to go. 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with that student who asked about you on Wednesday?”

Mousse squirted out onto Jason’s hand as he whirled around. “He asked about me?” 

“Yep,” Kory beamed. “He’s very cute, Jason! I approve. He said he’s minoring in the history of forensic science.” 

“I haven’t seen him since Tuesday but uh. Did he seem interested?” Biz nudged Jason to get back to work and he nodded in apology. There were still four more layers to go after the first two and all of them needed to be chilled for some time to hold together. “Sorry Biz.”

“Oh, yes. He was quite disappointed you weren’t there. But he didn’t say anything, just ordered a latte and left.” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Jason fist-pumped. He hadn’t been optimistic after Tim had snagged a last sample of croissant and waved goodbye earlier that week. Tim was probably used to people flirting or stammering or being generally flustered around him. It must be hard, being able to knock people’s faculties around just from a compliment or two and a curve of pretty lips. 

As Kory came around to take the trays of two-layered entremets away for chilling, Jason promised himself that the next time he saw Tim he would walk away with a coffee date. 

🥧

The next morning rushed by in a whirl of finishing buttercream touches, packing the dry-ice filled freezer bags, and getting everything to fit in the big white van Jason had rented. Kory drove them all across the Trigate to the west side, which resulted in both her and Jason leaning halfway out the windows, yelling at commuters and bikers alike, and Biz tugging Kory back into her seat no less than four times. 

“Lovely morning,” Biz said drily, firmly latching Kory’s seatbelt back. “Drive.”

They got to the venue, a beautiful old apple orchard, with barely an hour to spare for set up. 

“Fucking caterers,” Jason hissed under his breath. “All we need is two tables, dipshit, just move your aioli bowls somewhere else.” 

“It’s ok,” Kory said, lugging the freezers over from the van. “There are spare tables behind the barn--”

“There are also some behind the catering trucks,” a voice said out of nowhere, and Jason nearly fumbled the tray of tiny tiramisu he was holding when he turned and saw Tim’s slim figure wrapped up in a dark red suit. 

“You!”

“Me,” Tim agreed, doing his cute little tipped-head smile. Tiny gold studs twinkled in his ears from under his hair. 

“You’re here for the wedding?” Jason asked, and immediately wanted to smack himself. Tim was standing there in a suit and wingtips and even a plain silk pocket square, what else would he be there for? “You know the bride or the groom?”

“Neither very well,” Tim admitted with a half-grimace. He leaned in a bit and cupped a hand around his mouth, as if the caterers would report anything they heard back to the bride. “It’s a society thing. My parents knew their parents, we used to hang out at boring fundraisers, shit like that.” 

“You could hang out with us back here,” Jason said before he meant to. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, uh, I’m sure you have friends to get back to--”

But Tim was already picking up a freezer box and getting his nice suit all wet with condensation. “Where do these go?”

Between the four of them all the desserts were unloaded and set up in record time. Kory kept giving Tim extremely pleased looks. Anyone with a good work ethic was easily folded into her good graces. Biz was fussing over the tiny chocolate disks that topped each cinnamon-and-banana eclair but made sure to give Tim a hearty clap on the back and a resounding thank you. 

Jason tried to keep his attention on setting up the desserts according to the diagram Biz had drawn up but seeing Tim’s biceps strain against the clean red of his jacket and watching his long legs work as he made his way from the van to the tables proved a little too much. He nearly sent the heart shaped macarons tumbling from the intricate domino lines they were standing in and after that tried to just keep his gaze down and his hands busy. 

“I don’t blame you,” Kory whispered as she came over to line up the eclairs with a ruler. “Just as cute as I remember. Bend over a bit more, he keeps glancing over and blushing when he’s met with your ass.”

“We’re in the same boat then,” he replied, and promptly met Tim’s eyes, which sent them both scrambling to get back to their respective tasks. 

All in all, they were done by the time the ceremony ended and the guests made their way over to the dessert tables. Then there was nothing else to do but pack up the van and head back to Gotham. All their food was served with biodegradable plates and silverware, Jason explained to Tim proudly. An investment, but one that paid off with green-conscious young couples looking for companies that shared their values. It also meant no reason to stick around and collect plates and forks. 

Jason packed the extras back into the van and turned to Tim, brushing stray water droplets off his hands. “You probably want to get back to the party...will I, uh. See you this week?” 

“I’m supposed to be saving money for a new bike, so you’ll have to make it worth my while.” There was a quick teasing nudge to his shoulder. “Save one of those extra mint things for me?”

“The entremets? We have like 20 left, I can keep it in the back until you drop by.” Which was really soon, Jason hoped. Would he look overeager if he just asked? Did Tim want him to ask? He should just blurt it out. They’d only met twice, though. Would Tim find it weird?

“I’ll see you tomorrow then? I have an evening class.”

Yes. Yes! 

Jason tried to keep his cool. “Yeah, sure, stop by whenever.” 

“Jason!” Kory yelled out the passenger side window. “Come on, we still have prep to do.”

Tim tipped his chin towards the van door. “You sure you’re in charge here?”

“Don’t give her any more ideas,” Jason muttered. “Yeah, Kory, fine! I’m coming!” 

He hesitated, then swooped down and dropped a kiss on the high point of Tim’s cheek. “See you.”

“Bye,” Tim said softly, looking like he wished he could join them, and then waved as Jason hauled himself in. 

🥧

Monday evening was the bakery’s quietest day. The students and cashiers and accountants and managers all wanted to get home as soon as possible to flop on the couch and pretend the weekend hadn’t yet ended and barely anyone stopped in to splurge on a ready made dinner instead of relying on Sunday afternoon meal prep. By six p.m only three chairs were filled and that too by one group of droopy-eyed graduate students, two of whom had given up on review and were scrolling mindlessly on their phones. 

Jason was nearly dozing off at the sit-in bar counter when the door jingled and he wearily drew himself up from his slouch. 

“Jason!” 

No shiny leather shoes, no debonair silk pocket square. Just old jeans, a pair of Converse, and a sweater with a faded gym logo: a bat lifting a barbell?

“Nice sweater,” Jason greeted him, not even resisting the smile that swept too-large over his face. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all day.” The backpack got dropped with a _thunk_ so Tim could lean comfortable against one of the tall barstools. “I was dreaming about mint and chocolate all through my dissection lab.” 

“I gotcha,” With a flourish, Jason presented the entremet: two layers of bittersweet chocolate cake sandwiched with a layer of mint-infused mousse and a clear raspberry jelly, topped with a chocolate leaf and cocoa powder. 

“Gimme, _please_ ,” Extending grabby hands at the plate, Tim stretched so far over the counter he nearly toppled over it. “I need sugar.”

“I changed the price,” This made Tim blink. Jason tried not to stare at the flutter of his lashes against his cheek. “You don’t have to, though. Maybe this wasn’t a great idea. Look, never mind. Dumb idea, sorr--” 

He was cut off by the press of Tim’s mouth against his, stealing any words or thoughts he had left right out of him. Tim was holding on to Jason’s arms to keep him upright over the bar. It only took a second before Jason was leaning in, wanting to get closer, but keeping the kiss soft and chaste, retreating before returning to kiss him one, two more times, quick and easy. 

When he opened his eyes again, Tim was so close he was all Jason could see, with his dark hair mingling with the tuft of white in Jason’s bangs and looking surprised at his own courage. 

“Sold,” Jason whispered. 

“Totally worth it,” Tim said, and reeled him back in. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ty for the mods of JayTim Week and to Snow for collab'ing with me!!! Art will be posted in the second chapter as soon as tumblr stops art-blocking Snow.


End file.
